


Sometimes, home has a heartbeat

by Caivallon



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 01:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21499717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caivallon/pseuds/Caivallon
Summary: “This fucking sucks,” Auston says as soon as the door opens.“You have to elaborate your words for people who aren’t actually living in your mind. What sucks? The weather? The season so far? My face?”“All of that.”  Auston peels himself out of the coat and tosses it over the bag. He doesn’t bother hanging it— just wants to get rid of it, take off everything that reminds him of winter and the road trip of one successive frustrating shitshow after another.(Or, Mitch is injured and Auston is frustrated.)
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Comments: 17
Kudos: 149





	Sometimes, home has a heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> [ **breakmystrings** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakmystrings/pseuds/breakmystrings) has this little challenge going on about writing a short fic for every week Mitch is out and ~~kind of asked me if~~ I wanted to contribute something. 
> 
> Because it’s me this is a lot longer than I planned and it’s also a lot later than I intended to post it.
> 
> I hope you still like it. (Please ignore the news that Mitch is apparently traveling with the Leafs on this trip.) 
> 
> Thanks for the lovely beta job, [ **Alyssa** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardiac_arrest/pseuds/cardiac_arrest) ♥

**Sometimes, home has a heartbeat**

“This fucking sucks,” Auston says as soon as the door opens. 

Mitch blinks. His wide grin freezes and falters for a few seconds while he looks confused. But then he has himself under control again and steps back so Auston can come in and drop his bags. 

_“‘Hi, Mitch, nice to see you. Can I come in?’ Oh sure, Auston, nice to see you, too,”_ Mitch drawls sarcastically as he greets him.

Auston rolls his eyes. 

“This sucks,” he repeats.

“You have to elaborate your words for people who aren’t actually living in your mind. What sucks? The weather? The season so far? My face?” 

“All of that.” Auston peels himself out of the coat and tosses it over the bag. He doesn’t bother hanging it— just wants to get rid of it, take off everything that reminds him of winter and the road trip of one successive frustrating shitshow after another. 

“Ah, I think we both know that you actually love my face,” Mitch coos. The wide grin is back in its place while he watches Auston fiddling with the shoelaces that,of course, refuse to cooperate. Finally, he manages to loosen the knot and stands upright, using the advantage of the three inches he has on Mitch to look down at him. 

“I guess it’s okay.” 

It’s a blatant lie because Mitch’s face is more than okay—especially when the grin slowly turns into a softer warmer smile, when Mitch closes the distance between them without hesitation and leans up to press their mouths together for a long, solid kiss. The kiss is nothing fancy or desperate, nothing playful or sweet. But it’s good. _So good_. 

Mitch’s lips are lush and pliant, not chapped, as usual, tasting of gum and strawberry shake.

It’s over way before Auston is ready to part with him, but he quickly reels Mitch back in, presses him against his body and holds him in place. “I just like it better when I can see it next to me on the plane instead of over FaceTime.” 

Auston feels himself blush at his own words. 

But when he can whisper the words into Mitch’s ears, when he can’t see the reaction in Mitch’s face… maybe then they won’t count and they can both pretend that this is not as serious as it sometimes feels. Maybe then they can pretend that nothing has changed between them— and they are still buddies that happen to have amazing sex now and then (or every time they’re alone together in a locked room). 

Thankfully, Mitch doesn’t comment on his little slip, only tightens his grip around Auston’s shoulders, and digs his fingers deep into the flesh, as if he's happy about Auston’s words. 

“I got take out sushi for you if you’re hungry. Only the good stuff, no gross things.“

“Going by your definition of gross, that’s only rice then.“

“Well, raw fish and veggies _are_ gross.” 

“Why did you get it then?”

“Because you like it.“ 

The way Mitch just puts it out there, plain and simple— Auston likes sushi so he ordered it for him. Because Mitch wants him to have something nice. It makes him feel warm and cared for, even though he knows Mitch is always like this, for everyone, loves making people feel good, thrives on their happiness. 

Sometimes, Auston wishes he could be like that. 

Sometimes, he thinks that this is the reason he’s so drawn to Mitch, the reason this trip was even more tiring than usual. 

Mitch nudges him, “come on, get out of this suit while I serve you dinner, darling.“

It’s a joke. Obviously, it is, so Auston huffs and nudges him back. But on the way to Mitch’s bedroom, he can’t help liking this idea. 

_Coming home_. To Mitch. 

The walk-in closet is surprisingly tidy (not only by Mitch standards) and there are no shoes or clothes strewn on the floor for him to stumble over, no piles of dirty laundry in the corners. The only things out of place are the sweatpants and hoodie Auston usually wears when he’s over. 

They’re laid out for him on the chair with a fresh pair of socks and boxers. 

Auston swallows, has to take a deep breath because… this isn’t just Mitch having too much time on his hands so that he finally cleans this mess: Mitch has waited for him, has missed him. 

It almost feels like coming home, only that he’s never come home and had his clothes laid out for him. 

_Like a wife greeting her husband._

(In the fifties.)

Auston laughs and gets changed. 

When he gets back to the living area, the sushi is plated on the couch table next to actual glasses filled with Gatorade; even the soy sauce and wasabi is in tiny bowls he didn’t even know that Mitch owned. It looks very nice and grown-up, or it would, if it weren’t for Mitch dancing around the kitchen counter and singing along to some silly song that he usually plays in the car. There was a time in Auston’s life when he didn’t know who the Jonas Brothers were, but that time is long over; no one can escape Mitch’s bad taste in music. 

“Are you okay to do that?” Auston raises his eyebrows when he steps over to Mitch, bringing his hand around Mitch’s waist to stop him from fidgeting. Auston may not have the medical reports, but he’s pretty sure that Mitch isn’t supposed to put too much weight on his ankle yet. 

“Oh, it doesn’t hurt at all.” 

“Yeah, but that’s what you said after it happened and now you’re out for four weeks.” Auston can feel his annoyance - and, even more, the concern - coming back at the memory. Using some more strength, he pulls Mitch in, stills his movements. It isn’t only because Auston wants to, but because he feels the inexplicable need to do so: to make sure Mitch isn’t in pain, that he’s safe and happy and taken care off, the way Mitch did for him by ordering his favorite nutritionist accepted food and laying out his clothes for him. Now, it’s his turn. 

“Please,” he says. It’s out before he can stop himself— the only thing that’s on his mind, the only thing he can say. For as good as Mitch is about taking care of others, the worse he is about taking care of himself. 

That’s Auston’s job now. 

“Do it for me.“ He buries his nose in Mitch’s hair, rubs it over his scalp. 

“We need you out there. _I_ need you.“ 

It feels so soft against his face, so rich and precious and he inhales the scent of Mitch’s shampoo like it’s something delicious. Pinewood and pineapple and peppermint. Things he didn’t like before he linked them with Mitch.

For the first time, he takes in Mitch’s appearance, not knowing how it took him so long to do it. How he could allow his frustration and annoyance to overshadow this evening when it was the first time he saw Mitch again after ten impossibly long days. 

Mitch, clad in sweats and a loose hoodie, looking cozy and warm; young and so soft— with his wide and beautiful smile, smooth pale skin, and tousled hair that has gotten so long that it’s constantly tempting Auston to brush his fingers through it and mess it up. With his exuberant energy and enthusiasm that no injury and no loss can ever really dim. 

Everything about him is stunning, not only today, but all the time. 

Maybe Auston had gotten so used to it that he couldn’t see it anymore. Maybe he had gotten so used to having Mitch around that he didn’t realize how much he needed him. 

But suddenly it’s the only thing he can see, and Mitch is the only thing he needs. 

His fingers and body move without his will. They pull Mitch in and tilt his face upward so that he can steal the first proper kiss for tonight. A long one. A thorough one.

To make up for all the ones he has missed in the last weeks. To make up for his shitty mood at the beginning, for his blindness. For his ignorance. 

Until Mitch is breathless and beautiful when they part, pliant and flushed in his arms, every urge to jump and fidget around forgotten, only pouting and whining theatrically so that Auston has no choice but to lean in and kiss him longer until Mitch is satisfied. 

(It’s not a hardship. Not at all.) 

It’s a good thing that sushi can’t get cold, because it takes them another couple of minutes until they are ready to sit down and eat. Mitch didn’t lie; he got the good stuff for Auston, no gross mushrooms or fish roe to be seen on a single piece, but lots of salmon and avocado and asparagus. Mitch immediately arranges himself so that he can lay down and put his head in Auston’s lap the second Auston sits down. 

“How am I supposed to eat like this?“ Auston frowns. 

With an eye roll, Mitch grabs the plate and balances it on his chest. 

“There you go... all set.“ As if that was obvious. But Auston knows better than to object— not with Mitch’s comforting weight draped over him. 

If he has missed this, how much worse must it have been for Mitch? All alone here and not being able to play, having to watch the disgrace that has been their play lately.

So, he buries his right hand in Mitch’s gorgeous and soft hair and starts to slightly rub Mitch’s temples, letting the long strands slide through his fingers. Smiles at the sigh of relief that Mitch exhales. 

Maybe, he can deal with eating sushi like this: only with his left hand, without soy sauce and wasabi, if Mitch is almost purring in his lap. 

_‘I’ve missed you.’_

Auston doesn’t say it— not aloud. 

“Next time, next time I’m allowed to travel with you. The doctors said.“ Mitch muses as if he could read Auston’s thoughts. 

“They were afraid that I’d overdo it if I came with you, that I’d put too much weight on it with all the walking and the luggage.” 

“I’m pretty sure that leaving you on your own devices was worse for your ankle than coming with us. As if Mo or JT would have allowed you to carry anything and walk more than necessary.” Auston picks an inside out roll with salmon and cream cheese, waits until Mitch opens his mouth to feed him. 

“Ahh, and you, Aus? Wouldn’t you carry my luggage, too?”

“I would carry you _and_ your luggage if that meant we could eke out a win.” 

“Only then?” Mitch takes the bite and pouts; cheeks round like a chipmunk’s, a smudge of cream cheese on his upper lip. It’s ridiculously cute— even more so when Mitch notices and uses his tongue to lick it off. 

“Only then. Who do you think I am? Superman?”

Mitch laughs; a sound so amused and bright that it costs Auston a lot of willpower to not smile down at him. 

“Sorry, but you’re definitely not good looking enough. Especially with that thing.” He swipes his thumb over Auston’s mustache; a clumsy gesture, but enough to make Auston’s spine tingle, enough to spread warmth through his whole body. 

They eat like this. One-handed and slowly while catching up on what happened and occasionally making comments on the Canucks game that Mitch put on before. It’s more background noise and they barely pay attention. 

It’s nice. More than nice; and Auston feels at ease for the first time in days. With Mitch’s excited and yet calming voice in his ears, with his weight in his lap and his scent surrounding him. 

“If I’d known that’s what it takes to make you stay still I’d used you as plate before,” Auston says when he puts the empty dish back onto the table and reaches for the napkin. (The good cotton ones that Mitch’s mum bought because Mitch is a heathen and only uses napkins when they are in a restaurant, probably can’t even spell the ‘table manners’.) 

“Next time I’ll lay down on the counter and put the sushi all over my naked body.” 

“Oh god, please don’t!” Auston laughs out loud. Laughs despite the fact that he’s picturing it and despite the fact that he has absolutely nothing against the idea of Mitch laid out bare for him. But only Mitch could come up with a ridiculous idea like that. 

“Also, how would I get into the apartment when you’re all laid out on the counter serving as my sushi tray? And please don’t say that you keep the door unlocked, this is Toronto, not Markham.” 

Auston is still laughing, fingers tousling Mitch’s hair. 

“That’s why I have a doorman. But no… I actually thought you could use this, maybe.” Mitch rummages around in the pocket of his pants and then finally sits up, presenting a small object with a cheerful _‘tadaa’_. 

It takes Auston two seconds or ten to realize what it is.

“A key?

“To my apartment, yes. It comes with a drawer and some space in my closet… if you want that?” Mitch is smiling, but there is hesitation now, insecurity— lurking in the corner of his mouth and in the flicker of his eyes. “I don’t ask you to move in, don’t worry. Just thought that we’re doing this for, for a couple of months now and you’re always here anyway. Like this, we don’t— you can keep some things here, makes it easier for you?” 

Auston blinks; the sight of a stuttering and nervous Mitch is strange; unnatural. Especially if it’s about something that is so easy to answer. Something that makes his heart flutter inside his chest and fills him with happiness— so much that he’s warm and light all over and giddy. 

He stops Mitch’s rambling by reaching for the key. 

“You don’t have to sell it to me. I— I like it.” 

Then he pulls him in, presses his mouth against Mitch’s. Maybe to seal the deal, but mostly because he wants to. 

“You planned this.” 

“Not really, I mean— you know I’m a spontaneous guy. Although I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for anything after I had yucky sushi all over my body.”

“Too late, I’m counting on that now.” 

“Of course you would.” Mitch sighs before he stands and starts to clean the table. “C’mon, if you help me with the dishwasher I’m gonna have something else for you.” 

“Sounds intriguing.“ 

Before he got here Auston was exhausted and ready to sleep for a million years, but now he’s very awake and very up for everything Mitch has for him, so he dutifully loads the dishwasher while Mitch fills two glasses with water. “Does it involve your bed and less clothes?“ 

“Hmm, maybe. But it‘ll definitely _suck_.“

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on [ **tumblr** ](https://miss-malheur.tumblr.com/) and always up to talk about those two idiots.


End file.
